


Gloves

by Kissed_by_Circe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Fluffy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 03:33:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissed_by_Circe/pseuds/Kissed_by_Circe
Summary: Sansa’s mother had bought her a pair of gloves for Christmas, short and elegant, made of thin red leather with delicate little bows on the ring fingers, perfectly matching her auburn hair. They are laying on her dressing table, completely forgotten over some fight with Arya, just like her coat, and now her hands are getting cold.Sansa forgets her gloves at home, but luckily Jon’s there to keep her warm.





	Gloves

**Author's Note:**

> I own neither the novels, nor the characters.

Sansa’s mother had bought her a pair of gloves for Christmas, short and elegant, made of thin red leather with delicate little bows on the ring fingers, perfectly matching her auburn hair. They are laying on her dressing table, completely forgotten over some fight with Arya, just like her coat, and now her hands are getting cold. The sun is still shining, yet there is an icy wind blowing, and the high school gym casts long shadows on the empty parking lot.

 

The coldest April in decades, the weatherman had said, and she believed him. Hell, even Robb’s football team is practicing inside! The guys are probably showering just now, at least she hopes they are. That means that Robb will be here any minute, and take her home. If she has to wait any longer, they’ll only find her frozen remains, she is sure of that.

 

Cursing herself, she tries to shove her numb fingers into the pockets of her skinny jeans, but they are too small. Her cardigan doesn’t have pockets either, and so she starts rubbing her hands, hoping not to look like Gollum or some witch.

 

*******

 

“He’s licking Jeyne Westerling’s face like… like… like he’d get an award or something.” _Fuck._ He wanted to say something funny, something that’d make her laugh – he loves the way she laughs, with her eyes almost closed and her nose wrinkly – and instead he managed to startle her. He wants to kick himself. Why is he always so stupid when Sansa’s there?

 

Words aren’t his thing, he could never give an inspirational speech like his best friend or write a romantic poem like his father, but hell, he can’t even talk to Sansa, smart, charming, literature-loving Sansa without sounding like a hopeless idiot. “The Romeo-Medal for Face-Licking.”, she muses. Her teeth are chattering, and her lips are slightly blue. “Hey, you ok? Should I drive you home? He’s not gonna be here anytime soon.” She shakes her head, and her whole posture is stiff, defensive. “Um, no, actually, ahm, Robb needs to take me to, ehem, the… the grocery store.” He can tell that she is lying – she’s a good liar, but she isn’t in perfect shape now.

 

*******

 

Her fingers are trembling, and her face is burning from the cold, and suddenly Jon grabs her left hand and closes his fist around it. “Gods, you’re freezing!” It seems to be a surprise to him – and it certainly is, for he is always warm, almost hot, and never appears to realise just how icy it is – but Sansa only fells the warmth of his skin flow into her own.

 

The concerned look on his face increases, and then he makes a decision. He pulls her close and gently places her hands on his waist, under his open leather jacket. It feels like heaven. For a moment, she wonders if she died of hypothermia and if this is what life after death fells like, but then the heavenly heat of his body starts to radiate into her body and defrost it, and she can think again. And swear.

 

She is hugging Jon Snow, her brother’s best friend. Her long time secret crush. The guy she wants to avoid, because she is afraid of embarrassing herself in front of him. The last time he gave her a ride, her heel had gotten caught in the door and she’d fallen out of the car instead of elegantly stepping out of it. That’s why she had lied about Robb and the store. And now she is clinging to him like a little monkey. Awesome.

 

*******

 

His brain is frozen. Definitely. The only explanation for doing this. He couldn’t have possibly done this with a functioning brain. But somehow his brain always stops working when he talks to Sansa. Or touches her. Like now. Like he shouldn’t. She is his best friend’s little sister. This is against the bro-code. He is going to hell. But if hell is as beautiful as Sansa Stark he won’t mind going there.

 

He is an idiot. Like, he can’t supress a gasp when Sansa’s hands move towards his back, or stifle a moan when she rests her brow against his chest, just above his heart, which is now racing like crazy. She lifts her head at the sound, uncertainty shining in her eyes. “Sorry, I forgot how icy I must be.” She tries to smile, but fails miserably because her teeth chatter, and it is enough for him to pull her closer.

 

“Nah, it’s ok. No problem, little ice fairy.”, he mumbles into her auburn locks. Seven hells, she even smells nice! How is he supposed to survive this? Can’t he just die happy now, instead of facing Robb’s wrath?

 

*******

 

Abort mission, she thinks while doing something very very stupid. But luckily her body seems to have a life of its own, and, ignoring the frantic screaming of her brain, her hands creep over Jon Snow’s waist to rest on his back. Only for the warmth, of course. Between the warm fabric of his jacket and his boiling hot skin, her fingers start to warm up.

 

He smells of leather and some body spray and marshmallows, and somehow his own scent is even better than the body spray – which smells pretty sexy, by the way. She inhales his scent, and, without realising it, she moves closer. The feeling of her nose hitting his chest hits her in the guts like a baseball bat. She is sniffing on his chest. Shit. She is creepy, totally, completely, incurable creepy.

 

Trying to save what is left for saving, she turns her head, until her forehead rests on his chest, hoping he won’t notice. His moan sends chills down her spine. How could she be so stupid and thoughtless? Her entire face is frozen, and he is only wearing a thin tee, so of course having her icy skin pressed against his body would be uncomfortable and painful for him. She pulls back, and almost cries with relief when he hugs her again. And then he kisses her.

 

*******

 

He shouldn’t do it. He’s going to hell. But he already did many stupid things today, one more won’t be that bad. And so, he presses a feather light kiss on her hair. It’s stupid, so so stupid, but he can’t help it. He’s been in love with her for years, and how she’s laying in his arms, her face resting on his chest – he hopes she can’t hear his heart beat, she’ll think he’s having a panic attack, as fast as it’s beating – and his lips already are on her hair and she seems to like hugging him and he dreamed of this so many times… and so he kisses her. Only on her hair. Lightly. Nothing more. It’s enough for him.

 

She’s squealing internally. A high-pitched squeaking, like a mouse. He kissed her. Ok, her hair, like a brother would, but still, he kissed her. Was it a mistake, or could it mean… something more? She needs to know.

 

Her lips brush the naked skin on his collarbone – thank gods he decided to wear a tee with a deep V-neck! And then she looks up.

 

He whispers her name, and she hears what he can’t say. He leans down.

 

Their noses brush. Their eyes lock.

 

*******

 

Her phone rings, too loud and too hard in their ears. They both take a step back, cheeks flushed, eyes dark. She fumbles the phone out of her back pocket, unlocks it. “I’m sorry for what I said.”, Arya’s voice fills the whole parking lot. “Gendry’s here, with his car. We can pick you up from school, and I’ll bring your gloves.”

 

She looks up at Jon’s face, the fear and worry on them, the uncertainty in his eyes, and brings the phone to her mouth. “It’s ok, I already forgot about it. You needn’t pick me up.” Her hand sneaks under his jacket once more, and he’s beaming at her now.

 

“And I won’t need those gloves.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments <3


End file.
